Ma'at's Feather
by Celebwen Telcontar
Summary: When Alex revieved Evie, he didn't know that he had pulled her from Heaven.  She is now left with a hatred for her former life, and remembers her old one all to well.  What will she do now?
1. Chapter 1

**_Balrog: A new story, eh?_**

**_Celebwen Telcontar: Yes, and one to be proud of! It's for The Mummy. Hopefully people will review to this one..._**

**_Balrog: Hopefully indeed. You don't own The Mummy, do you?_**

**_Celebwen Telcontar: Absolutely not._**

"Well, now what?" Rick said. He ran a hand through his hair, making it look less like an ordered hairstyle and more like a bad thatching job. Evie nearly laughed at the thought. She was hardly ready for this. They had bickered since Evie had been brought back from the Dead. Heaven had been waiting for her, and she had been in Heaven as she had died. Now she was on Earth, and this was Hell. She closed her eyes, remembering the declarations she had said, in ancient Egyptian, before the goddess Ma'at, and Anubis, the god of Embalming and Mummification. Then her heart had been weighed against the Father of Truth, and the sensation of rising had made her see that the Feather was heavier than her heart. She would be going to Eternity instead of being devoured.

As she got to Eternity she was greeted by her parents and friends who had died, including Ramesses, her brother, from Seti's time, and Seti himself, as well as the Medjai from Egypt whom had died. She felt complete, almost. Something was not there, someone, yes, Imhotep was not there. Neither was Anck-su-namun, but that was not lamentable. She had been rather fond of Imhotep in her previous life, and now she sought him so she could apologize for what had happened.

Then, the wonders of Eternity and the West were ripped from her. She was hauled out of Heaven, and thrown back into her body. Alex stood over her, the Black Book of the Dead in his hands. He had resurrected her! She felt like sobbing.

"_Now what_? I was in Heaven, Rick. Heaven! And Jonathan and Alex pulled me out; shoved me back into this Hell. I can't be here anymore. You ripped me from my happiness, my reward for a life well-lived."

"Oh, God," Rick whispered. He had gone white, like a field of snow on a winter morning. "We… Alex pulled you from Heaven?"

"Yes, he did. My only hope now is to return there, and to be in Eternity again. No one has had the… _opportunity_ won't be a good word… of being Weighed against the Feather of Truth a second time. I am going to Egypt again, and am going to live there." Evie went up to her room, and began to pack.

"Evie! Please, let us…"

"Rick, no. Say goodbye to Jonathan and Alex for me." She finished packing, then went outside to where Rick had started the car.

"If I can't persuade you to stay, then I'll have to drive you to the docks at least. Or would you rather me hire a pilot?"

"No. Not after Izzy and Winston. I'll be fine with a boat. Thank you, Rick. I'm sorry, but—"

"I understand. You have to get away so that you can learn to live again."

"Good phrasing, if not entirely truthful," Evie said with a smile. "And I won't be Evie any more. I'm going by my name in Ancient Egypt.

"What is that?" Rick asked.

"Nefertiri. I'm going to take my mother's maiden name as well, Ishak."

"Nefertiri Ishak. It sounds very Egyptian."

"Good. I'm glad you approve."

"I don't entirely _approve_ as such, it's just that… I… You're leaving, and you're not coming back. You're not my Evie any more. I don't know how to say that anyways… Evie, you are my life. I can't simply abandon that, or you. I'm coming with you when you leave. At least I'll be able to help you, even if we have to join the Twelve Tribes and become part of the Medjai."

"I won't do that, Rick. Or rather Senahktenre."

"That was my name?" Rick asked. "What a mouthful!"

"You were called 'Tenre for short. Father had assigned you to my protection, and you took that very seriously. I eventually married you, and Ramesses made you a noble and you had your own set of Medjai who were trained to be somewhat like the Secret Service."

"I see," Rick replied. "So I became the leader of a group of Medjai, like Ardeth Bay is."

"Yes. 'Tenre, I still enjoy your company, though I never will love you as much as my first love. When I didn't see him in Eternity, I knew that he was still here, probably reincarnated. Then I remembered, and if I were to return, he would be there. I hope."

"Who is he?" Rick asked darkly. Nefertiri didn't answer. "Tall, bald, likes bandages?" When Nefertiri didn't answer again, but felt her face heat up, Rick's face went white. "It's him, isn't it? That damned Priest. You love him."

"Yes, I do. It doesn't matter now. He's dead, and that's that."

"You brought him back once, by mistake or design, and you can do it again. Don't, Evie, please."

"My name is Nefertiri, Senahktenre, or did you forget?

"And my name is Richard O'Connell. Don't forget my name or call me that mouthful again!"

"Sen—Rick, please. I can't be here any more. My memories of past and present are mixing. I don't know what's here and what was then anymore! Sometimes I expect Ramesses to walk through a door, or Anck-su-namun to challenge me with blades. Sometimes I think that my father will challenge you for my hand, or that I will see Menet-ka in his priestly garb."

"Who is Met-ka?"

"Menet-ka, 'Tenre. He was my brother. When my adopted brother returned from who-knows-where with an ultimatum, Ramesses didn't comply. Then, the world began to spin out of control. The crops were destroyed by hail and grasshoppers, the river became blood and killed the fish, which had eaten the frog eggs in the past, blowing the frog population sky-high. The dead frogs attracted both gnats and flies, which brought an outbreak of some desease with them—"

"Moses?! Your brother was _Moses_?!"

"Yes. Menet-ka was the firstborn. They found him draped over the alter like a sacrifice to Set. Our firstborn, Kiron, was found with the Medjai, some of whom had died. Other Firstborns also died, save the Israelites. They were the only ones spared of the scourge."

"So… This is getting more complicated every minute. Can I sleep on this a bit?"

"Yes. I'll be going to the Records office and getting my name legally changed."

"I see. So your name will now be Nefertiri Ishak."

"Indeed. I will be back." She left, closed the door behind her, and started a new life.

**_Celebwen Telcontar: Well people... please review! Please review indeed!_**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Celebwen Telcontar: Don't own it. This is the second chapter._**

**_Balrog: Snore._**

**_Celebwen Telcontar: (glares at Balrog) Please review, people!_**

Evie—now officially divorced and named Nefertiri Ishak—walked out of the office. Rick was sitting in his car, and he opened the door for her.

"I wish you weren't going," Rick said softly.

"It wouldn't matter anyway, Rick. Egypt's my home."

"Ev—Nefertiri, I won't let you do this alone. When we get to the docks, I'm going to call Jonathan. He can stay with Alex for a good while until you deciede what to do."

"Thank you, Rick."

The car pulled up to the docks, and the tow of thekm got out, pulling Nefertiri's luggage with them. Rick went to find a telephone and Nefertiri closed her eyes. The first face to come to her mind was her father's. Seti had been so strong, so very regal, but he had been only mortal. Then, her mother's face; kind and gentle, sweet and yet stern and commanding when the need arose. She had died after Moses had ran off to Myddian. Moses. Her nephew close to her own age, being Maya's adopted son, had gone off to who knew where, only to return to demand that the Israelite slaves be set free.

His departure was as a catalyst. Her father had found out about Imhotep and Anck-su-namun's affair, then had been killed. Nofret had then been married to Ramessses, her own son, and had died in the birth of her son, Smenkhare. The boy had hardly lived three years before being killed by a pet cheetah. Ramesses had married again, and his firstborn son, Mena, had died after the Plagues, when the Firstborn of everything not Israelite had died. She was lucky that Menet-ka was the firstborn, though he had gone for the Priesthood. The High Priest of Set had found him draped like a sacrifice to the god of Chaos and Destruction.

"Alright, Evie—Nefertiri. Everything is set up so that we can be gone indefinitely. Your aunt Jezebel is taking care of Alex and Jonathan. We could be gone for the rest of our lives, and though they wouldn't like it, they'd survive."

"Good. Thank you, Rick." Nefertiri and Rick boarded the liner, listening to the people crying out to their loved ones, and walked down to the state room that Rick had secured for them. The rooms were nice, and Rick had the forethought to get a two-bedroom suite. Then again, that could have been the only one left, as it looked extremely pricy. The walls were paneled birch, mahogany bordering it, with the walls between the doorways decorated with a pale wood done in an Egyptian style pillar. Since Howard Carter had discovered and subsequently demolished Pharaoh Tutankhamen's tomb in '22, the Egyptian style for everything had come in style with a bang. Nefertiri hated it. Nothing they tried had gotten right. She had become sick and tired of Egyptomania going crazy, and all of the insane curators wanting this, that, and the other that came from Egypt, but didn't realize that they were grave robbing.

"Are you alright?" Rick asked.

_"I don't know if I ever will be again, Senekhtenre,"_ Nefertiri replied softly.

"Excuse me?" Rick inquired, sounding thoroughly puzzled. "You spoke Egyptian."

"Sorry. I don't know if I ever will be alright again, Rick. My family is gone. Father is dead, as are my siblings. Even my crazy runabout brother is dead, probably from old age and or dehydration from walking around the desert for who-knows-how-long. Ramesses and Father, Grandfather, and everyone before or since is on display like a… a… freak of nature! My family are i not /i freaks of nature, Rick! We are human, just like everyone else! So what if we're the children of Horus! My people are dying, if not already dead. They died when that git Alexander came and destroyed their land, put us under Greek rule. Then the Romans, and that Greek bint, Cleopatra, and all her descendants followed him. I feel horrible, Rick! I want to go home, to sit on a couch beside my brothers, to play with my sisters, to be held by my mother! I miss them, Rick! If only I could see one of them." Nefertiri looked up at Rick, and saw that he had gone slightly white and looked a bit panicked. She fell onto one of the couches, and began to weep.

"Evie…" Rick began, sitting next to her. He rubbed her back, gently soothing her. Then, he began to do something completely unexpected. He began to sing a lullaby to her.

_Dream by night  
Wish by day  
Love begins this way.  
Loving starts  
When open hearts  
Touch, and stay.  
Sleep for now  
Dreaming's how  
Lover's lives are planned.  
Future songs  
And flying dreams,_  
_Hand, in hand._

_Love it seems  
Made flying dreams  
So hearts, could soar.  
Heaven sent  
These wings were meant  
To prove, once more.  
That love is the key...  
Love is the key.  
You and I  
Touch the sky  
The eagle and the dove.  
Nightingales  
We keep our sails  
Filled with love.  
And love it seems  
Made flying dreams,  
To bring you home to me..._

Rick began to hum slightly before beginning to sing once more.

_Love it seems  
Made flying dreams  
So hearts, could soar.  
Heaven sent  
These wings were meant  
To prove, once more._  
_That love is the key...  
Love is the key._

_You and I  
Touch the sky  
The eagle and the dove.  
Nightingales  
We keep our sails  
Filled with love.  
Ever strong  
Our future song,  
To sing it must be free._

_Ev'ry part  
Is from the heart,  
And love is still the key.  
And love it seems  
Made flying dreams  
To bring you home  
To me._

Nefertiri felt herself drifting off after the first verse, and was completely out cold by the time Rick had finished singing the song.

_Nefertiri walked down the stairs, completely alone. There was nothing to see, nothing to hear or touch or smell. No incense burning to the gods. No sounds of fervent worshipers. It was as if she was walking through a dead city. The towers and statues her brother had made stood at odd angles. She saw one of his statues had been decapitated, which made her feel rather ill. How dare they treat her brother's works of art and majesty like this! On top of the decapitated statue was Jonathan, who was yelling down at her. Then, Ramesses walked up._

_"What happened here, little sister?" Ramesses asked._

_"Archeologists. Or, rather, plunderers and people who believe themselves to be archeologists. They would rather destroy a culture than learn about it."_

_"I see."_

_"Get away from me, damnit!" a voice screamed. It was a woman's voice, and then she screamed back to herself a string of obscenities. Rounding the bend, Ramesses and Nefertiri_ _came upon two Anck-su-namun's fighting like angry cats. Off to the side were two Imhotep's, one covered in scarabs and semi-decayed, the other looking like the High Priest of Osiris had been thoroughly regenerated. A horseman rounded the bend, followed by a legion of riders. It was Ardeth Bay, seeming to charge the four people. Nefertiri saw herself leap in front of Ardeth as both Anck-su-namun's ran off, leaving the Imhotep's to be slaughtered by the Medjai._

_"Ardeth! No!" Nefertiri cried as she saw herself go down under the black stallion's hooves. The leader of the Medjai leapt off of his horse and held the dying woman to him. Both Imhotep's glared daggers at Ardeth Bay as Nefertiri ran over. Suddenly, the regenerated Imhotep scooped her up in his arms, holding her close._

_Then, without warning, the ground gave way beneath Imhotep, who clung to the side of the gorge. Senakhtenre, with Rick's hair, held Nefertiri to him. She broke out of the hold, and held her hand down to Imhotep, hauling him up and clutching him like all life depended on it. The High Priest obviously seemed to forget that Anck-su-namun had ever existed._

Nefertiri yelled as she sat up, sweating and gasping. She felt the skin between her loins was wet, her abdomen was throbbing, and she was tingling all over. She knew that she had to take a bath. A very _cold _bath. Blushes weren't only one thing that needed cooling. She got out of the bed, seeing the sheets tangled so that they had been yanked off of the bed in places, revealing the thin, lumpy and crinkly blue-and-white striped mattress. Her cheeks heated up again, and she ran into the bathing room to draw her bath, turning the water on icy cold.

She dunked her foot into the water, yelping from the frigid temperature. She hopped on one foot while trying to warm the other, and fell into the water.

"Evie? Are you alright?" Rick's voice yelled.

"Hoh my Gods it's _cold_ I'm fine!" she replied, her voice higher than normal due to the icy water. She cursed in a mixture of ancient Egyptian and English, surely making him worry more than he should.

"Are you sure?" Rick called.

_"Yes, 'Tenre! Now go on and go oversee a field practice or something,"_ she called in ancient Egyptian, not able to think properly. She dunked her head, cooling her blushes instantly. A very quick scrub later, and she was pale and shivering, wrapped up in a spare blanket and seated on the couch as the maid changed the sheets.

"Whyever ye 'ad te go an' dunk yerself in th'ice water is b'yond me, Miss," the maid said, her thick accent making it slightly difficult to hear correctly. Nefertiri didn't answer.

Three weeks later, the steamer pulled into Cairo, and Nefertiri and Rick disembarked. They went to wander around before they found somewhere to live and begin their lives anew.

**_Please review!_**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Celebwen Telcontar: Here I am again!_**

**_Balrog: And why, pray tell, do you continue this nonsense?_**

**_Celebwen Telcontar: Becuause I can! And I will!_**

**_Balrog: You, my friend, are insane. I think that I will go and get some lava and schist._**

**_Celebwen Telcontar: Go ahead. Please review, people!_**

"Come on, 'Tenre! We'll be late if we have to wait here longer!" Nefertiri cried. She looked up the staircase to her ex-husband, one hand on her hip. The fact that that hip, and the rest of her, was covered in gauzy material and bright gold and lapis lazuli jewelry didn't seem to faze Rick. Ground up lazuli was placed over her eyelids, giving her an enigmatic look.

"I'm coming, 'Tiri, don't have a cow. We'll be there in hardly ten minutes." He came down in a traditional Egyptian garb, his skin having been tanned very dark during his life in the desert with her. The two of them had never gotten back together, but they were still good friends, and when Nefertiri needed a lift to someplace, Rick, going by Senakhtenre now, would be happy to take her. Now, though, Nefertiri was a priestess, the only one who served the god Osiris now. She also burned incense and left offerings to the other gods, but she was a priestess of Osiris, and couldn't shirk her duties. She had pulled a muscle in an attempt to do a back flip for the god at one point, and had learned how to play the harp. At least Osiris was entertained. Nefertiri pulled her wig from the side rack, and carefully placed it over her head. She had begun shaving her head, trying to discourage the lice that she had attracted her first week back.

"_Damnit!" Nefertiri cried. She scratched at her scalp, trying to dislodge the lice and nits that had taken up residence in her head. Rick had given up the attempt, living with the disgusting bugs. "Fine! I have had i enough/i " she snarled. She filled a bowl with kerosene, and dunked her head in, making sure not to get any of the flame accelerant in her eyes. She felt it working on the nits and lice, and lifted her head almost five minutes later before throwing her hair back. _

"_Evie?!" Rick cried. She felt a sudden flux of heat on her back, and then Rick dumped some water over her head. She had apparently caught fire. How had she ignited? Then, she saw the incense. Her hair was shorter now, and singed. The dress she was wearing wasn't going to be able to be worn again. She decided then and there to shave her head and go bald, as the ancient Egyptians did. She still hadn't thought too hard about what she wanted to do with her life. "Come on, Evie. Let's get you to bed." _

_When she fell asleep, the first thing she saw was a weeping woman. She was obviously looking for something, and needed to find it. Suddenly, she stooped, and brought out a hand. It was bloody and looking as if it had been savagely hacked from the arm it belonged to. _

"_Erm… hello?" Nefertiri asked._

"_Oh, hello. Can you help me?"_

"_Eh… what are you looking for?"_

"_My husband. I can tell that you will serve him."_

"_What do you… who…?" Nefertiri asked in a confused ramble. The woman held up the hand. _

"_My brother ripped my husband apart. Flung him hither and yon. I need to find him."_

"_You… you're Isis," Nefertiri whispered. The goddess nodded with a bittersweet smile. The dreamscape faded, and Nefertiri knew what she was going to do with her life. She was to be a Priestess of Osiris. The first one in over a millennium. The gods would be pleased, she hoped._

Nefertiri left the house with Senakhtenre, going to the new car, a strange looking boxy vehicle without a top. It was a good all-round vehicle though, bought from a war station. Hopefully the pair of them wouldn't be in the middle of another war. One stint was probably good enough for 'Tenre, but the French Foreign Legion wasn't the same as that German pestilence Hitler. Streaks of light darted through the sky, seeming to be a fiery rainstorm, and the solitude of the desert made her think she would be able to casually converse with her gods.

As they arrived at the temple, Nefertiri got out and got her instruments out before 'Tenre was out. A dish of fresh fruit and a sweet incense stick got the temple feeling a little more like it was worshipped to. Bastet seemed to smile in reply as Nefertiri began to play a lively tune on the harp. A temple cat sat on the dais that the statue stood on, and looked regally at Nefertiri. She wished that Imhotep was here. He would be able to cheer her up, and keep her from feeling so alone here. As she finished the lengthly piece, Nefertiri noticed the cat get up and swish its tail at her, winking. A chill went down her spine. Bastet had somehow tried to communicate with her using one of Her inscrutable servants. Nefertiri scoured her mind for any prayers she had given to Bastet. None came to mind, but who knew what the goddess would do. The gods tended to grant a person's wishes at the worst possible times.

"_Shit! Evelyn! Germans!"_ 'Tenre screamed into the temple. A blast of mechanical gunfire being traded back and forth caused Nefertiri to yell and run out. The wind was kicking up, causing a sandy blackout. The coarse screaming in German caused Nefertiri to realize that something had spooked the soldiers.

"_Was zum Teufel weitergeht? Teufel! Hexerei! Lieber Gott, es ist der Teufel!"_ someone screamed, sounding utterly panicked. The wind was getting higher and higher, encasing Nefertiri and Senakhtenre in a swirling sandy vortex.

"Oh 'Tiri! He's back!" 'Tenre said over the wind's howl. The sound seemed to devour anything else, and soon the German troops were flung hither and yon, all mummified. The wind had died down, and a man was standing there, a light smirk on his face. His bald head seemed to glimmer in the torchlight. A cat twined about his legs. 'Tenre cursed fluently in multiple languages, describing several anatomically impossible feats.

"_Good… evening, Princess Nefertiri," _Imhotep said softly in ancient Egyptian. The cat meowed and waltzed back into the temple, seemingly pleased with what it had done.

"At least the Germans are gone, 'Tenre," Nefertiri pointed out.

"Yes, they are. And we have the Plagues to worry about now. How the Hell did this guy get here now?"

"The cat. I suspect that Bastet had a hand in this. _Thank you for intervening when you did, Imhotep,_" Nefertiri said. The High Priest of Osiris nodded with a small smile.

"_You are welcome, Priestess."_

"What was that? Can you translate?" 'Tenre asked.

"Not at the moment. We owe him our lives, 'Tenre."

"_So you have remembered that you are Senakhtenre, have you?"_ Imhotep said, raising one of his hairless eyebrows.

"_He hasn't remembered his past, but I do always remind him that he was Senakhtenre at one point in his life. He doesn't entirely believe me, but what can I do?_

"_Nothing, Nefertiri. I am also impressed. You have remembered the old ways and are worshiping the gods again. They are glad for the attention, Priestess."_

_Thank you, Imhotep. It has been a long time since anyone noticed that I am trying to do some good here. Senakhtenre thinks I'm losing my mind, the Medjai whom check in on us once in a while seem to try to keep their distance, and no one else knows that we are here, save a few Egyptologists who think that I am beyond insane. I can't do this alone anymore, Imhotep! If 'Tenre dies, then I'll be doing the last rites and mummification all on my own, and if I die, then he won't know what to do so that my Ka can return to my body! Help me, please!"_ Nefertiri's rant was long and annoyed, and by the end, she was crying. At the last sentence, she flung herself at the High Priest, weeping on his broad, strong shoulder.

Imhotep was a bit confused when Bastet came to find him in the Hell that he had been in. When she brought him back to the living world, he saw that Senakhtenre reincarnated, that annoying adventurer who seemed to get in his way at the worst possible moments, was fighting off a large contingent of people in odd looking garb using strange clubs that fired a spray of red-hot metal. Imhotep sized up the situation, and transformed himself into a sandstorm as Nefertiri came out of the Temple of Bastet, wearing the sheer material and uniform of a Priestess to Osiris. If so, then why was she in the Temple to Bastet? She could be plying all of the gods, and if so, then she was a very brave woman, more so than he had given her credit for. The priests of Osiris had their work cut out for them, as did other priests and priestesses. Obviously, she knew what she was doing as well. If Bastet had heard her prayers and decided to answer them, then She was impressed. None of the other gods had gotten on his case either. But Nefertiri was at the end of her rope, metaphorically speaking. She had bags under her eyes, and her hair, while obviously an expensive and well-made wig, possibly from her own hair, was askew.

Imhotep was suddenly angry at the soldiers for threatening Nefertiri's life. He couldn't care less about Senakhtenre, but Nefertiri had feelings for him, and so he would spare the Medjai's life. Imhotep sucked the life force out of the soldiers, leaving them little more than mummies in and of themselves. As he dropped the sand, Bastet come back in the form of one of Her servants, and twined herself about his legs. Imhotep began speaking to Nefertiri, exchanging pleasentries, and she spoke shortly with her Medjai lover. Then, she exploded into yelling and sobbing, throwing herself at Imhotep and weeping on his shoulder. Reflexively, he caught her, and tried to soothe her. He was going to stay, and he made sure she knew that, while he stroked her back and Senakhtenre looked on, looking downright murderous and yet also somewhat saddened. The man made a shooing motion, then backed off, Imhotep being rather confused. Senakhtenre then looked rather annoyed.

"You—Imhotep—Nefertiri—stay," Senakhtenre said, struggling with the ancient language.

"What do you mean?" Imhotep asked him.

"You—Imhotep—Nefertiri—_bound?_"

"'Tenre," Nefertiri said before beginning to speak in a different language. Then, she translated what Senakhtenre had said. "Apparently, he wants us to… well… to get married." Nefertiri blushed, but didn't seem to adverse to the prospect. Imhotep, on the other hand, was ready to either laugh or yell. The man had the audacity to push his wife onto Imhotep?! That made no sense whatsoever! Unless the man didn't love her anymore and wanted to get rid of Nefertiri. But why? He knew how Senakhtenre thought. He believed Nefertiri was the height of good, the best thing since the cut stone! What was going on between the two of them?! Nefertiri loved Senakhtenre, or did she? If she loved him, then why would she be alright with the idea of marrying Imhotep?

Bastet obviously thought that he had been thinking too much on this, because She swatted at Imhotep, making him look down at Her. She looked pointedly at Nefertiri, then at him. Imhotep was confused. He looked down at Her, and She hissed in annoyance.

_:Listen, Priest. She loves you, and the guard is willingly giving her up so she can be with the man she loves. I wouldn't take that lightly, if I were you.:_ The cat then vanished, leaving the desert a slight bit less luminescent than before.

**_Celebwen Telcontar: So, did you like it? Balrog? Balrog? Where are you? Well, readers, I hope you liked it!_**

**_Balrog: (Throws piece of gneiss at the curtain)_**

**_Celebwen Telcontar: Alright... alright... I get the picture. I'll leave._**

**_Readers???_**

**_Celebwen Telcontar: Please fill in the questionmarks with your ideas of the story!! Thanks!_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Well, here's the fourth chapter. Hopefully you all will like it.**_

_**Balrog: And why would we do that, pray tell?**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar's answer for the Readers: I don't know what to put here, so this is it! Please reply with your answer to what to say!!**_

**_Readers: (Silence) _**

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Alright, alright! I get the point! Here's the story.**_

_Alas, my love, you do me wrong, to cast me off discourteously,_

_And I have loved you so long, delighting in your company._

_Green Sleeves was all my joy, Green Sleeves was my delight,_

_Green Sleeves was my heart of gold,_

_And who but my Lady Green Sleeves?_

_I have been waiting at your hand, to grant whatever you would crave,_

_I have both wagered life and land, your love and goodwill for to have._

_Green Sleeves was all my joy, Green Sleeves was my delight,_

_Green Sleeves was my heart of gold,_

_And who but my Lady Green Sleeves?_

_Oh, I have prayed to God on High that you my constancy may see,_

_And that yet now before I die, thou wilt vouchsafe to love me._

_Green Sleeves was all my joy, Green Sleeves was my delight,_

_Green Sleeves was my heart of gold,_

_And who but my Lady Green Sleeves?_

The song rang from the throat of the camel rider, sighing over the dunes.

"Will you be quiet?!" his companion snarled. "You're making me sick with your moping about like a lovelorn idiot!"

"Sorry, Mahmud," the man said softly. "I miss her, though."

"Of course you do, Senakhtenre. We all do. She was as one of us, and a rare friend to our leader. But we must be silent." The Medjai had taken Senakhtenre in without a fuss at all, and treated them as one of their own, after teaching him their ways. For some time, he had been in lessons with the Medjai children, learning of Imhotep's inherent evil, how to speak, read, write, and even think in Arabic, and how to move about unseen. The shadows on the dunes in the early morning and mid-late evening were used to keep cool and to learn how to move about without being noticed. Senakhtenre had also learned how to ride a horse front, back, and sideways, trick riding to keep in the saddle under any circumstances, and means of escape should he need to. "Come, my friend. Let us be on our way." The two of them rode to the oasis near them, and rolled out their bedrolls. "What did you learn today?" Mahmud gazed impassively at Senakhtenre, his deep eyes fathomless and not judgmental.

"The world is our responsibility to protect and care for. We are the keepers of secret knowledge, that if let loose, will destroy the world. Many myths and legends of different cultures are true, and we are the keepers of them."

"Very good, Senakhtentre. But, tell me of the Mornor, their Master, and his defeat."

"The Mornor were ancient… tribal leaders?" Senakhtenre asked.

"Tribal leaders is adequate. Go on."

"They were leaders, and were gifted magical objects by the Ancient Ones. The magical objects kept them alive for an indefinite amount of time, but their Master had made a different object that called to the Mornor's objects. They became his slaves, and ruled the world, far more than the Scorpion King or the Army of Set would have. Then, a farmer disabled the object, faught and killed the Mornor's Master, and died in the process. The Mornor were killed when their Master died."

"Good, very good." Mahmud lit his pipe, and let the smoke drift up. He then lit a stick of incense, and began to speak, reciting a tale about the Ancient Ones, their Sun and Moon of the Earth, and the being whom had destroyed them. "The Scorpion King is of the same blood as the Destroyer, for when the Scorpion King became a servant of Set, he was given the blood of the Destroyer to make him invincible."

"So this Destroyer is some massive creature?"

"It is written that it was said to be a spider the size of an elephant."

"A…" Senakhtenre couldn't speak; a spider that size would have to be absolutely massive, and was bound to be deadly. No wonder the Medjai called the beast The Destroyer! He would destroy all he walked on!

"Do not abuse this knowledge. Should the Destroyer ever come to seek our lands again, we shall not survive, Senakhtenre. Do you hear me?"

"Clear as crystal," Senakhtenre said solemnly.

"Come, then. We must sleep. The night grows old, the morning ever closer, and on the morning we will travel to greet your bride."

"My bride?!" Senakhtenre sputtered. If he had been eating or drinking anything, he would have died from asphyxiation. "What do you mean, my bride?!"

"Just that, Senakhtenre. We must consult with your wife for land purposes. She holds much land, and must be given proper bounds for her land. She also holds many buildings, and from what we can see, lives within one of them. Our leader is also there, speaking with her."

"Ardeth Bay is there?"

"Yes, Senakhtenre. Be at peace, no harm shall befall you." Mahmud leaned back on his pallet before smiling at the younger man through the smoke that wreathed his head. Senakhtenre nodded. If the Creature was there, then he could defend himself and Nefertiri well enough. Now if only he could get some sleep… he didn't want to face a murderous undead priest and priestess on a sleep shortage.

Alex stood slowly, letting his gun drop to his hand. He lifted the weapon, sighted down the barrel, and slowly eased back on the safety release. His target lifted her head, looking his way. The shadows masked his presence, making it impossible for her to see him. Alex pulled back on the trigger, feeling the weapon buck in his hand as the bullet exploded from the gun with a roar. The gazelle flung its head up, rearing in shock and pain, and the herd scattered, leaving only dust in their wake.

The gazelle was fat, meaning a good store of meat for the coming dry season. Since his aunt Jezebel had been killed in a London raid five years ago, Alex and his uncle Jonathan had moved to Morocco to live in the desert in seclusion. Two years before that, Alex' parents had vanished for unknown reasons.

"Scham," Alex called. The bay stallion he had commandeered from a trader came silently at his call, waiting for the young man to hitch the dead gazelle to his travois. "Good boy. Now let's go home." Alex jumped onto Scham's back, and the two rode off.

When Alex got to the tiny oasis the two of them called home, he quickly skinned the gazelle as his uncle began a fire. Strips of the meat were hung on the drying racks to make into jerky in time to come, and pieces were placed on spits over the fire to cook for the evening meal. Then, Alex came upon an interesting find. The doe had been pregnant with twins. The supple skin of the two fawns would make good soft leather, possibly for saddle blankets.

"Tomorrow, we're going to the next oasis over. We've nearly removed the vegetation here, and the Germans will find us if we don't move."

"And if we do? They'll find us out in the open," Jonathan replied.

"We need to get one of the Medjai to help us. Possibly that Muhammad fellow that gives us food for the water. The spring is also slowing, Uncle. If it stops completely, then there will be consequences. Animals won't come here again, and a valuable water source will be gone."

"The spring could be clogged," Jonathan put in.

"It could be. In that case, the natural water pressure will force the water out and the clog with it in time. Until then, we need to keep going."

"Alright," Jonathan replied. He began to fix up his bedroll for the night, getting ready to sleep against an early morning.

Running from oasis to oasis in the desert slowly making their way Eastward was telling on the two men. Their bodies were leaner and harder than ever before, and a diet of high protein and low vegetation was slowly sapping their resistance to diseases. Jonathan's eyesight was failing slowly but steadily, most likely from a lack of vitamin A. Alex had caught scurvy once, and the Medjai in the area had made him eat leaves of an unknown plant which had been found in every oasis so far, staving off scurvy after then.

The two of them fell into a deep sleep, rolled in blankets and hides to stave off the icy nocturnal chill of the desert.

Alex and Jonathan crossed the desert slowly, the Medjai leading them to the small oasis they were going to live in. The camels were being stubborn, groaning and making a fuss about moving at all, much less moving faster than a walk.

"Come, travelers," their guide said, motioning to the line of green on the horizon. "Travel, we must, the cursed lands."

"Oh no," Alex moaned. Jonathan looked ready to turn back. Their guide urged his camel, and thus the other three and the bay stallion Scham, into a rocking gallop.

Suddenly, a white camel raced out in front of them, a boy on its back. He and the Medjai began to speak in Arabic, the Medjai going pale rather swiftly. As the boy looked on, the guide turned his camel.

"Eat with child, we must. Come." The three of them followed the boy, the Medjai's words having been spoken as though they were a portent of doom, and his paler-than-usual complexion making Alex fret. Jonathan looked ready to bolt, so the younger nomadic international traveler broke the very tense silence.

"Don't worry, Uncle Jonathan. I'll protect you."

"Thanks, pal," Jonathan whimpered.

"Interesting," the boy called back in English that seemed accented with a combination of British, American and Arabic flavors. "The elder seeks shelter form the younger. Worry not; my father is a good man, and my mother is a good woman. You will stay the night, then we shall lead you to your rest on the morrow." The boy apparently translated for the Medjai, who began to fervently pray to Allah.

A line of brown fuzziness was obscuring the oasis, and the Medjai's eyes widened.

"Sandstorm," he said to the two English-speakers. Alex cursed in a way that would have given him a thrashing had his parents been around, and Jonathan closed his eyes and whimpered again.

"Come on, hurry up, Mohter's got food waiting with Ardeth Bay and Senakhtenre as house guests," the boy said, urging th white camel into a swift jog.

"Senakhtenre?!" the former guide exclaimed. He began babbling in Arabic, the boy not translating for the two younger men.

"Come!" the boy said imperiously, speaking over the frantic Medjai. A biting wind not ten minutes later brought tiny, needle-sharp grains of sand to the four, burrowing into folds of their clothes. The storm had come upon them faster than they had anticipated. Cliffs arose before them, dark and ominous in the swirling sand. The camel seemed to know its way though, for it guided the troupe into a large cavern. They went up a ramp, a rock wall falling behind them and locking out the sandstorm.

"Wh—where are we?" Jonathan asked.

"We are in my home. _Good girl, Jasmine. Come on, there's a good feed waiting for you in your stall,"_ the boy said to the camel in ancient Egyptian. "Come, follow me." The boy used an ancient flint striker on a piece of iron pyrite, lighting a torch and filling the dark corridor with a flickering, eerie light. They rode into a deep chasm, windows to the outside being boarded up to keep the sandstorm outside. Camels and horses were in stalls on the walls, and the boy slid off of his camel. The other three followed his example, and a silent, bald and shaven man came to take the camels. The white one went directly to a stall, obviously used to this routine. "Come, all of you, The welcoming feast awaits," the boy said in English and Arabic. He led them to a large chamber where precious water was stored in several cisterns. One of them was filled with steaming water of a deep green, the water smelling strongly of rotten eggs. "Do not worry, the water here is of natural springs. The hot water is good for your body and soul, the cold for afterwards where you must bathe to remove the heat. Your clothes will be cleaned and returned to you on your departure. Such garments are impractical within walls. I am called Seti," the boy said, finally saying his name.

"I am Alex O'Connell, and this is my uncle, Jonathan Carnahan." The four of them were soon bathed and redressed in clean, ancient style garments, smelling of a pungent banana like smell that came from the beautiful periwinkle blossoms that were brought in and soaked in the wine that they drank.

"_Seti? Is that you?"_ a voice called in ancient Egyptian. Jonathan's eyes went wide, and Alex gasped in recognition.

"Mum!!" he screamed, racing u pthe hall and into her arms. "A-Alex?!" she gasped. "Oh, Alex!"

"Mum, why'd you leave us?"

"Hold on, baby, Jonathan needs to hear this as well. Is he here as well?"

"_Evy!!!" _a voice screamed.

"Jonathan! Oh by the Gods it's good to see you two!"

"_Alex!"_ a voice screamed. Alex' father came barreling down the hall, tanned almost beyond recognition and in a Medjai robe. His forehead was tattooed and his forearms were scarred and pockmarked as if he had taken up falconry.

"Rick!" Jonathan cried.

"Jonathan! It's Senakhtenre now."

"Se-huh?" Jonathan replied, obviously confused.

"Call me 'Tenre. Evy's name is Nefertiri now, or 'Tiri."

"'Tenre, let them breathe," a new voice said.

"I am, Ardeth. Muhammad," Senakhtenre said, touching his lips and forehead to the Medjai. The two began speaking rapidly in Arabic, Nefertiri jumping in with a snarl once.

"Mum?" Alex asked, unused to this new side of her.

"Ardeth?" Jonathan asked.

"Hello, Jonathan, Alexander. Seti, you have lessons."

"What?!" Alex asked. "Mum! Is Seti Ardeth's son?!"

"_No," _a new voice said in ancient Egyptian. _"Senakhtenre, Ardeth, and the children, including you, Alexander, you have lessons."_

"_Father, I can write!" _Seti burst out.

"_Imhotep, I must speak with Alex for a bit," _Nefertiri said.

"You—you—Evy—you—" Jonathan spluttered. Alex swallowed hard.

"Mum, you've bedded this—this—_thing?_"

"Alexander Michael O'Connell! Watch your mouth or you'll be getting a mouthful of soap!" Nefertiri replied. "Imhotep and I are married now. You'll just have to get used to it."

"Dad!"

"Get used to it, Alex. Imhotep asked me for your mother's hand, so I'm okay with their marriage. Now, how are you with a calligraphy nib?"

"Calligraphy? Fancy writing? Isn't that for medieval manuscripts?"

"I'll take that as a 'not proficient'. You'll have lessons in calligraphy, stealth, religion, and what Imhotep calls the 'arts of knowledgeability'. Don't worry, son, you'll learn fast."

"A—alright," Alex blinked a few times. "I still don't trust him, though."

"That's okay, son. I trust Imhotep as far as I could throw this cliff, but no farther, so we are in accord here. But we will be living here for some time, making sure that we can support ourselves. If the Germans decide to attack the desert, they'll have a nasty surprise waiting for them. Imhotep can be very powerful, and your mother isn't a weakling either. If she feels that people need to be protected, she will beseech Osiris, her god, and if He answers, then all of the gods will get into this conflict. From what I understand, the Hebrew god is going to get involved in any case with the way that the Hebrews are being treated. Your mother is sickened, and she was one of the people who used to find the slavery acceptable!"

"Mother… Mum… She found slavery… _acceptable?_" Alex gasped. "How… how could she?!"

"She didn't know any different, son. With the lessons, I'm going to ask Imhotep and your mother to teach you history from their viewpoints. It's very… eye-opening. Yes, the Hebrews were slaves, but were they treated badly? From what I have heard and read, the Hebrews were treated no worse than a house-servant, not a slave, in the 19th century Southern United States. A lot of times they were treated better. I have also reclaimed my memories. I was Senakhtenre, one of Pharaoh Seti I's bodyguards. I owned more slaves that I care to repeat, but I treated them well."

"I… that… how… you… Mum… ?" Alex stammered.

"Don't worry, Alex. You'll learn soon. Come on, let's have some supper." The two of them walked up the hall before sitting down and eating the good, filling food. The doe that Alex had killed the day previous and the fawn meat was on the table, as well as a paste of what looked like chick peas, round, flat bread, something made from eggplant, and a bunch of round, flat cracker like biscuits that were covered in herbs and spices. A bowl filled with a white and pale green substance was in the middle, and people used the sauce to cover a piece of flatbread then layer meat, the chickpea paste, the eggplant dish and some lettuce in before eating it like a Coney Island hot dog.

Alex loved the taste. It was complex, unlike anything he had ever had before. The wine made him slightly giddy, and he noticed that more of the periwinkle flowers were infusing the fruit drink.

"_Dad, what are those?"_ Alex asked, pointing to the flowers, unconsciously reverting to ancient Egyptian.

"_Those flowers are blue lotus. They give longer life and greater enjoyment of the length of life, Alexander,"_ Imhotep replied in the same language.

"_They're not poisonous?"_ Alex asked.

"_Would I poison you?" _Imhotep retorted. The table had gone silent, waiting to see where the conversation would go from there.

"_Yes,"_ Alex replied without a pause.

"_I see no reason for your death, and besides, I do not wish to make my sleeping couch the desert sands." _The ancient Priest's face was completely serious; however there was a spark of what Alex surmised to be humor in his eyes.

"_I certainly can,"_ Alex said, feeling very vindictive. This was the man who had stood calmly by as his mother had been killed. This was the man who had very nearly killed her himself. _"One word. Anck-su-namun."_

"_Kiron son of Senakhtenre!"_ Nefertiri cried. She was obviously in a rage. Imhotep pushed his way away from the table, and left the chamber to somewhere else. Nefertiri stood, grabbing Alex' ear and hauling him away from the table, protesting and whining in pain the whole way to a new room, throwing him down onto a couch.

"Mum, who's Kiron?"

"You. What by the Gods _possessed_ you to say that, Kir—Alexander? You will apologize to Imhotep tomorrow morning. As for you—you will be spending tonight away from here. I cannot judge you fairly, for you tore me from Heaven and then just now severely hurt both me and my husband."

"I… I tore you… Oh my God… I tore you from Heaven?" Alex asked, unable to comprehend the fate that he had subjected his beloved mother to. He would make this up to her, he had to. If he had to throw himself off of the cliffs and make himself a human sacrifice, he would. His mother's Heaven would be avenged. He would not hurt her any more.

"Go, Kiron. Have dinner, then have your father take you to a room." Nefertiri turned and walked out, by her carriage, she was beyond fuming. Alex couldn't see a time when he would talk with his mother again. He had really messed things up, and he would be leaving in the morning to go to who knew where. Maybe back to England to be a RAF pilot. They always needed more fighters for the war against the Germans. He would die in valor and in service to his country. He had done enough running.

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Oh dear… Alex running away. **_

_**Balrog: (Grunts) **_

_**Readers: I don't know what to put here, so this is it! Please reply with your answer to what to say!!**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: I need to fill in the faces and punctuation! Someone review, please! Please! **_


	5. Interlude

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Here it is. The newest chapter.**_

_**Balrog: Is it a good one? None of them so far have been.**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Please do not give bad reviews for my work. Your flames are bad enough as is! **_

_**Balrog: Well, when you're writing another person's work—**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: So it's the Fanfiction that you have trouble with. Well, I don't own this, so please read and review, people!

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**_

Alex shoved his belongings into his bag. His mother hated him now. Absolutely despised him. He could see it in her face, hear it in her voice. As he threw his homemade cape of deerskin over his back, he ran down the corridors with a torch. He burst into the stables, holding the torch aloft, and found Scham by the fact that he was the only horse who did not shy from his figure. He patted the stallion gently, before moving on to a camel, the same camel that he had come in on, in point of fact. The army would be a good place for him, but not for Scham. He had decided to go for the military simply because of the fact that it was far away. He would thus leave Scham here, where he would be well cared for. They would treat the fiery stallion well, and he would know that Scham would be happy.

As Alex headed away from the Cliffside homes, the last thing he heard before cresting the dune was Scham's scream.

* * *

Nefertiri paced back and forth. She couldn't understand why her son had left. Alex had returned to her only to leave in the dead of night, like a thief. Jonathan was still here, would always be (or so he pledged), and Alex's beloved horse that her brother swore up and down Alex loved more than his own life was in the stables.

"Look here, Nefi," Jonathan said, handing her a scrap of paper. It had writing on it.

_Mother, _

_I am writing you to tell you that I am exceedingly sorry about what I did to you. This is no place for me, for I cannot live where I know that I have caused such pain. Therefore, I am going back to Britain, to join the Royal Air Force against the demonic Germans and Japanese. _

_I also cannot live in the same vicinity as the High Priest, for he has done much to hurt this family. I cannot stand to see you in pain, and now that I know that I caused it, I cannot remain here longer. Make my farewells to Uncle Jonathan and Father for me. I know that Uncle was not suited to the nomadic lifestyle we lived for many years. He needs greens and fresh fruits as well, and I can see the onset of scurvy is near with him._

_Please care well for my stallion Scham for me. He is all I have left in this world, for I never wed and I love him more than were he my son. He is loyal and gentle, and I know he will be well cared for here. _

_I will see you again in Heaven, when you return, Mother. _

_Fare well,_

_Your son, _

_Alexander Michael O'Connell_

_Imhotep: When you read this, know that I will come for you with hatred should you harm my family. My mother is in your care, and you will be held responsible for her well being. If she is unhappy, I will find out, and you will rot in Hell for eternity. That is a promise, Priest._

Nefertiri clenched the letter to her.

"He's gone to the military," she whispered.

"He's _what??_" Jonathan yelped.

"The military? Why?" Senakhtenre asked.

"He knows that he took me from Heaven, 'Tenre. He's left his horse, whom he says here he loves more than a son, for us to care for. He left us because he couldn't be here."

"We took you from Heaven, Evy?" Jonathan asked. His joking demeanor was very solemn, and he seemed to radiate sorrow.

"Yes, you two did. That's why I left, and also why I moved out here. To get away from everything familiar that would remind me of what I had lost. I became a priestess, then I was in Bastet's temple once, Germans attacked, and I was surrounded. Imhotep appeared, killed the Germans, and we have lived together ever since."

"Actually, I became one of the Medjai before long," Senakhtenre put in. "When we left you, we did not discuss where we would go. We came here, to the Egyptian desert, and soon after Nefertiri became a priestess. She was honoring Bastet at one point, and a group of Germans surrounded us. Bastet must have taken offence."

"She did. I was sent to the Mortal plain again, and I did away with the Germans," Imhotep explained. "Senakhtenre then gave me permission to wed Nefertiri, which I did. We moved here, into these ruins and made them our home. They are now one of the many places which are again habitable."

"And now Alex found out about his actions," Jonathan summed up.

"Yes," the ancient High Priest replied, rubbing his hand self-consciously across his bald pate. "I should bring him back, make him listen."

"Don't, _love_. I can't bear the thought of him hating you more than he does. It is my fault for not being clearer, or not outlining the reason for my departure so many years ago."

"Don't beat yourself up over this, Nefertiri," Senakhtenre said softly. "It's us that were in the wrong, not you. I'll go back with Ardeth and arrange a search party."

"'Tenre, no. If he's gone to the army, then that means that he doesn't want any of us to follow him."

"_Mother,"_ Seti called. He and his sister, Anck-su-namun, Suni for short, came over. _"We can't find Alex anywhere."_

"_He's gone, sweethearts. He left for the army this morning."_

"_The army? Why?" _Suni asked.

"_I want to join the army!"_ Seti exclaimed. Imhotep and Nefertiri looked at each other.

"_Not yet, Seti. Wait until you have seen at least twenty one Floods,"_ Imhotep said kindly.

"_Twenty-one Floods?! Father, that's a long time away! I've only seen eight Floods!"_

"_Well, Seti, you'll just have to grow up a bit, Pal,"_ Jonathan put in, revealing that he was as fluent in Ancient Egyptian as anyone there. _"Come on, let's go see what we can do until your parents are finished talking to Sen—Sen—Rick."_

"_It's Senakhtenre, and who exactly are you?" _Seti asked.

"_I'm your uncle, your mother's brother."_

"_No you're not. Mother keeps telling us stories about her brothers, and they were kind and caring, even Ramesses, who was Pharaoh after Grandfather."_

"_Seti," _Nefertiri said, _"He is your uncle. I forgot about him for a bit because I wished to only recall my life as Nefertiri, daughter of the Pharaoh. But Jonathan is my brother from current times. He is kind, however be careful, he can be a massive coward when he chooses to be. Why don't you help him find some necessities for the amount of time that he'll be spending here? With all the Germans running around, I don't want him to be in an oasis."_

"_Alright, Mother. I'll be back in a bit." _The two of them then left the hall, leaving the adults to mull over what had happened and try to salvage the situation without letting the world know of their abilities or the fact that they were there. This would prove to be a long life, if Alex wasn't found and brought back.

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Celebwen Telcontar: Well, how was that?**_

_**Balrog: Alright, I guess. Could have been better.**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: (sarcastically) Thanks for the high review. Please review people! So that I don't get bogged down by Balrog! Please!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_The pilot had his foe in his sights. The crosshairs pointed directly at the tail of the German aircraft, and the pilot squeezed the trigger. A cacophony of banging accompanied a guided fiery hail, and the German plane began to smoke ominously. _

"_Hey O'Connell!" the pilot's tail gunner called. The plane lurched nauseatingly, making the pilot look back. The tail was shot to shreds, and the rear of his plane was smoking, due to a German behind them. O'Connell cursed, and suddenly the winds began to pick up. _

_The desert was a good place to fly, but why in God's name had the German led them __here__ of all places? It made no sense! An ambush would be impractical here, since almost no one went out here. Then, the pilot spotted the landing strip. It was made of poorly-laid asphalt, but it was better than landing on the desert sands. "Oh my dear giddy aunt… O'Connell?" the tail gunner asked. He sounded truly frightened. O'Connell knew that Boris was hardly a coward, and nothing save Lucifer himself would cause the man to sound as though he had seen the worst thing ever. By goodness, Boris was actually __squeaking__ as he spoke, and that had never happened before. O'Connell looked back, and immediately wished he hadn't. The rising wind had created a sandstorm. No, sand __wall__ would be more appropriate. Suddenly, the visage of a running Arabian horse appeared in the sand. It reared up, catching the enemy plane with its hooves, and slammed down on it. Then, the horse continued to run, passing under O'Connell's plane with no trouble, and caught the enemy in front of them with a loud boom._

_Sand filled the tiny military aircraft. O'Connell cursed. "God, Imhotep, did you have to use Scham?" he asked. Boris didn't reply. The enemy aircraft had hit Boris before the man had been able to defend himself. His body was empty of his soul now. The Arabian sandstorm came up to him, now of the size of a normal horse. It snorted and blew sand in O'Connell's face, and knelt. "You want me to get on?" O'Connell asked. The horse nodded, flicking its sandy tail. He mounted, feeling the sand shift under him but not give way. He had never ridden a sandstorm before. The sandy stallion rose and began to run, making no more sound than the passing of a windstorm._

Revile neatly sliced the dream from the dreamer, who scrambled to his feet. The other pilots were doing so as well, and soon the communal showers were filled with RAF pilots, getting ready for the drills and the routine patrols today. The seven minutes that the pilots had to get ready was almost a leisure compared to the drills from the training days. Of course, having to clean out the barracks with a toothbrush was a very good incentive to keep moving.

Alex was very lucky to have survived over two years in the RAF. Sometimes he wanted to quit and go to Africa where his parents were, but then he remembered Imhotep. The High Priest was just waiting for a chance to attack him for hurting his mother.

But then again, Imhotep had been rather friendly when Alex had last been there.

No! He could _not _stoop to considering Imhotep friendly! The undead Priest had tried to kill himself and his parents, also to destroy the world in the process! Imhotep was evil! No ifs, ands or buts!

"_Pilot! Eyes forward!"_ a voice barked.

"Sir, yes sir!" Alex snapped off in reflex. Thoughts of Imhotep would only get him into trouble here.

"Three weeks outpost training without pay as a punishment," the sergeant growled at him.

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Dis_missed_, pilot!" Alex scampered back to his bunk, readying his knapsack for whatever godforsaken outpost they threw him onto as a punishment. It was bound to be one of the more difficult ones, such as the one in northern Normandy that got to maybe 2 degrees Centigrade during the winter at the warmest, or maybe the one with all the disappearing soldiers. He had no idea where that one was.

Suddenly, his bunkmate came in.

"Alex, man, what have you gotten yourself into?" George Recon asked.

"I don't know."

"Anyways, the Sergeant wants to brief you on your stationing. He's in his office now."

"Good. I'll get this over with." He left the barracks and went to face his fate.

Nefertiri grimaced. They couldn't stand the chance of being discovered, nor could they simply leave the outpost there. Imhotep had taken numerous soldiers as servants and grooms for the animals and covered the outpost with sand multiple times, but the soldiers simply came back over and over and over again. This was getting frustrating. Next thing, they would probably try to attack the cliff home that she and her family lived in! Sandstorms were not the most comfortable atmosphere to live in, and soon she would take matters into her own hands and probably use dynamite to demolish the outpost with Senakhtenre's help.

The sound of Imhotep groaning made her look out. A jeep was driving down the dune, and from the sound of it, Imhotep knew someone in the vehicle would be rather difficult.

Suddenly, the ground in back of the jeep roared up in a massive dune, sending the vehicle skidding over the newly-covered outpost. The vehicle was propelled into the horse and camel entrance, stopping probably somewhere near the corral or in it. The High Priest gave her a slight smile, and then walked through the halls to the stable, Nefertiri at his side. Imhotep had done this countless times before, the people in the vehicles having been rather terrified and not knowing what was going on. They had become grooms for the beasts or servants of other sorts. All of them were happier than they had been before.

There was a sudden scream from one of the horses, causing both to break into a run. A sharp wind at their backs made them run all the faster, and explode into the corral intent on throwing the offender out into the desert to bake. When they got to the corral, they saw Scham, the stallion that Alex had left, was out of his stall. He was whinnying and tossing his head, nuzzling someone.

"Yes, Scham? I missed you too, boy," a familiar voice murmured.

"Alexander?" Imhotep asked softly.

"Oh, Alex, you've returned!" Nefertiri ran and embraced her long-vanished son.

"I figured it'd be something like you," the pilot snarled. "Where are the other people who ran the outpost?"

"Private O'Connell," a groom called.

"Gunnison! You're alive! Everyone thinks you're dead back in the RAF!"

"Well, Private, I'm not. I love horses, and now I'm a groom for them and camels. McDaniel is enamored of botany, and now tends this mansion's garden. We like it here far more than in England. For one thing, the climate is warm year round, even during winter when the rains come."

"You like working for my mother and step father?"

"Lady Nefertiri is your mother?!" Gunnison asked in a shocked voice.

"Mother, you're going by Lady now?"

"The Medjai started it, Alex. We are an outpost in our own right for the Medjai anyways. Ardeth Bay isn't getting any younger, and we need to help them."

"I see. So you go and kidnap several soldiers from the army to use as your slaves?"

"_Alex!" _Nefertiri barked._ "We couldn't very well leave them to spill our secret to the RAF, now could we? Be grateful that we did not leave them to broil in the sun!"_

"_Alexander," _Imhotep said, _"They are not slaves, but paid servants. Should they wish to go back to their homeland, then they may. They do wish to remain, however." _

"Alright, Gunnison. Do you really want to stay here or go back home to England?"

"Are you insane, O'Connell?! Go back to that perpetual swimming pool?! No! I love it here; excellent food, wonderful people, beautiful climate, and perfect work. I'll stay here until I die, make no mistake! Why didn't you say you had such wonderful parents?"

"Wonderful?! Imhotep tried to _kill_ me, Gunnison! And my mother's fully insane!"

"Kiron!" Nefertiri barked. Alex ignored her. _"Alexander son of Senakhtenre, you will listen to me!" _she hissed in Ancient Egyptian.

"_I do not have to. I am over twenty-five years old, Mother. It doesn't matter what you think. I will go and man the base as I have been instructed to. Do not send your pet sandstorm to cover it, for I will not leave. I thank you for caring for Scham, and I will be taking him with me." _Alex turned and mounted the stallion, whom snorted and half-reared. "Easy, boy, it's just me. No need to fret, Scham. Easy on. Let's go!" Scham and Alex rode out of the enclosure into the harsh desert sands.

Nefertiri felt her shoulders slump.

"_Do not worry, sweet Nefertiri. I'll not let him starve or die of the elements."_

"_Are you going to bring him back here?" _Nefertiri asked.

"_No, but I will make sure that he has food and drink. A good sandstorm now and then to drive a herd of gazelle to the outpost, a spring coming up in the middle of it, and all will be well. Thank the gods he knows how to cook!" _Imhotep laughed.

"_Not that much, Imhotep. Jonathan still regales me with tales of meat that was more burned than cooked!" _A smile lit up Nefertiri's face as she remembered the stories Jonathan had told her about the times when he and Alex had been nomadic.

"_He makes it edible at least. Old Maya never did anything of the sort. Her food was always something even the hogs wouldn't eat!" _Imhotep recalled Anck-su-namun's mother.

"_I wasn't very surprised. Her cooking was black and blue if any color at all, and resembled charcoal, not to mention her house when she was finished with a meal!"_ The two of them left up to the living quarters.

Alex rode as fast as he could, trying to get away from the Cliffside dwelling. The desert sands held as much heat as they could during the day, but at night, they let that heat out as fast as possible. The winds that during the day were reminiscent of a bread oven were now whipping across the dunes with the force of a hurricane and chill that set into his very bones. As Scham panted in his run, the breath he expelled went streaming behind them like a low mist, joined by Alex' own. It was cold here, cold enough that if moisture had been in the air, it would have come down as snow.

Suddenly, a sharp wind kicked up. The icy chill was augmented by having miniscule grains of sand flung into his clothing, ears, eyes and nostrils. Scham snored and shook his head in pain, obviously in the same predicament. Alex cursed at Imhotep, wanting something to take his rage out on. Scham reared, flailing his forehooves. When the wind died down, Scham stopped screaming and rearing, and ran headlong into the revealed army outpost. Imhotep had cleared the sand away, and literally scoured the streets and buildings with it, removing any sign of wear and tear. Alex set up his gear in one of the bunkhouses, cooking a quick dinner of dehydrated, re-hydrated meat that tasted remarkably like shoe leather, probably serving that purpose better than lining his stomach, and a compressed cake of fruits and vegetables that was the same consistency as a block of wood and had roughly the same taste. Alex tried not to remember the magnificent feast that Imhotep and his mother put on for his and Jonathan's arrival years ago. The water in his canteen tasted quite like metal, and was hot and gritty with sand from the storm, nowhere near the same quality as the water from the clear, cold spring in the oasis's that he and Jonathan had lived in for years on end, not to mention the cliff that his family lived in.

He had to stop this! Imhotep was evil! He needed to stay as far away from the Mummy as possible! He bit savagely into the vegetable-fruitcake, and nearly broke a tooth. It seemed to have been molded from the same traditional recipe that families everywhere passed among their members, using them for hammers and doorstops. Maybe soaking it in a pot of boiling water would help. It wasn't very promising though, save to perhaps poison the precious water.

A scuffing of a foot on the icy metal floor awakened Alex to the fact that someone was here. He crouched low, pulling his submachine gun from its holster. If it was a German, he'd get the better of them. A boy of about ten or twelve rounded the corner, dressed in clothes that looked hastily put on, and covered in sweat and dust.

"_Alexander!"_ the boy cried, running for Alex regardless of the gun. _"Alexander, why did you run away?" _Alex racked his brain for the name of this little one, probably one of his half-brothers, named for one of the Pharaohs of ancient Egypt. Ay, perhaps.

"Erm… eh… Ay?"

"_What was that? I am Seti, if you don't remember me. I am your half brother."_

"_I remember you now. What are you doing here?"_

"_Father heard a voice on the wind. It sounded as though Germans are going to attack here later tonight, when the sky is black and the land is cold. I also would like to know why you left home, and why you do not like Father."_

"_It's… complicated, Seti. If there are Germans here, I had best get ready for them. Go on, I will be fine. Go back to your home, Seti. Now! I can take care of myself!"_

"_Mother says that you're only a pilot and that you'll get killed! She has the natron, bandages, and different ointments out already! She is sure that you will be killed, and that you will be gone forever!"_ Seti exclaimed.

"_She already has the mummification tools and materials out?!" _Alex yelped. He didn't want to be killed, and when his own mother was ready to mummify him, especially being a Priestess of Osiris instead of Anubis, it was rather chilling. _"Alright. Let me get my stuff, and we'll booby trap this place so that the Germans can't get in or out of it." _Alex grabbed a few sticks of dynamite, showing his little half-brother how to rig them to go off if someone tripped a string barrier across each of the entrances to the base. He then left his non-necessary items in the base, boosted Seti onto Scham's back, and rode off. _"Did you run all the way here?" _he asked. The slump that Seti fell into and the bowing of his head were answer enough.

Nefertiri paced the floor, sweating and worrying. She would have to get Alex's body soon, and besides that, Seti was missing. He had run off just after the evening meal, not even stopping to take a camel or horse. She had her fears that he had gone to join Alex, but she didn't voice them to Imhotep. Her husband was now worshiping Osiris, because he didn't know what else to do to keep from going crazy with worry for Seti and Alex.

Suddenly, a series of explosions rocked the night. Nefertiri ran for the window, and saw a pillar of orange fire erupting heavenwards from the area that the army outpost was. Nothing would be left of Alex to mummify, and so he would not be going to the West to Eternity. Nefertiri dropped her head in despair. Her firstborn was killed again. This time she didn't even have a body to have mummified.

"_Mother!"_ Seti's voice cried, bolting her out of her memories.

"_Seti! Thank Osiris that you're safe!"_ Nefertiri hugged Seti close to her, weeping in his wig. Then a figure clouded the doorframe.

"Mum?" Alex's voice asked.

"Alexander? Alexander! You're alive!" Nefertiri abandoned Seti to hug her eldest. "Will you stay?"

"Mother, I can't. I have to finish my term first, or I'll be considered a deserter. From then, well, I'll decide what to do."

"But the others are here, and they are not being called deserters."

"The army believes them to be dead, Mother. I can't keep up this charade any longer. Doing so will be lying to my country and people. Besides, we can't let the Germans destroy us. The RAF needs every pilot it can get."

"Then you're going back. At least let Imhotep help you."

"How?" Alex asked, confused. "Besides, I am not fond of him."

"We'll see, Alexander."

"I can't see how he can help. There are rumors of the Germans having some massive super-weapon, a bomb that can wipe out entire cities."

"Then you must stay here, Alexander! I lost you once already, to my own folly, and did not go after you. I will not go after you again!"

"Mum, it wasn't your fault! I was the one who pulled you from Eternity, not the other way around! How can you possibly continue to stay near me after that?!"

"I can! I made a mistake when I left! Your father is patient, kind and caring. He never left me alone, never abandoned me. He even gave Imhotep permission to marry me, and didn't begrudge him after that. I ran away instead of facing my problems, Alexander. Don't make my mistake."

"I am not running away. I have to return to the army."

"Kiron—"

"My name is Alex. Your name is Evy. Father's name is Rick. We are English, Mum. Not ancient Egyptian. I will not indulge you in your fantasies, and I will not be called a traitor or a deserter. I have to go, and will leave!" Alex stormed out of the room, his face a cloud of fury.

"_Mother?"_ Seti asked softly. Nefertiri shook her head slowly. He was gone. Her eldest son was once again gone.

"_Nefertiri?"_ Imhotep asked, embracing her.

"_He's gone. He survived the Germans, but he's gone back to the army."_

"_Nefertiri, he's made his choice. We cannot take that away from him; he will see us as his jailors if we do. We must wait until he returns on his own, for he will not be happy if we take him here. It does not matter if it is for his own good."_

"'Tiri, Imhotep is right, as much as it pains me to say this," Senakhtenre said softly. "Alex is hard-headed and stubborn. He won't think he is wrong unless he sees it for himself and suffers the consequences. I doubt that he will be coming back for quite a while. Seti should… Seti?" Senakhtenre asked, looking for the errant boy.

"_Seti!"_ Jonathan cried. _"Where do you think you're going?"_

"_To the stable. Do not attempt to stop me." _The rushing of small feet echoed down the hall, and were followed by Jonathan's larger pair. Imhotep and Nefertiri raced after the two, and caught up with them, Jonathan trying to keep Seti from mounting Scham to ride off. The doors were wide open, and Vetch, Jasmine the camel's first calf, was gone. Scham was hanging his head over the stall door, looking utterly miserable. Even though Nefertiri knew next-to-nothing about horses, she realized that the stallion was pining, and probably wouldn't live out this time when Alex ran off.

As Jonathan hauled Seti off of Scham's back, the boy's foot caught on the catch for the stall door, and the stallion took the opportunity given to him. He bolted, squealing, and fled the stable into the gathering gloom.


End file.
